


Mapping the Arcane

by soph5795



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-11-15 12:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11231391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soph5795/pseuds/soph5795
Summary: Following the disaster at the Ministry in her fifth year, Hermione breaks into Professor McGonagall's office to turn back time.  When she finds herself in another time entirely, she finds she must adapt or die - and sometimes adapting means learning hard truths.  Fifth Year AU.





	1. Chapter 1

Hermione hurtled down the hall, all subtlety forgotten in her mad rush to reach her goal. Every step made her chest ache terribly, threatening worse if she tore the fragile skin that had only just covered the wound that Dolohov's curse had left.

Despite Madam Pomfrey's insistence that Hermione remain in hospital for days, Hermione was determined to keep moving. After all, if she stopped, all she would be able to do right now would be to think about Harry, who had lost his new father figure. Or to think of Sirius, who she wasn't that close to but had hoped to be one day. As long as she was focused on something else, the emotions that seemed poised to overwhelm her were held at bay.

As she came upon the portrait guarding the entrance to Professor McGonagall's office, Hermione only narrowly avoided running face first into the canvas in front of her, slamming both palms into the wall as she caught her breath.

Chest heaving and wincing with every breath, Hermione turned her attention to the portrait in front of her. Looking upwards at the visage of the stern woman within, Hermione asked, "By any chance can you just let me in? It's life or death."

Looking down her nose at Hermione, the woman lean forward in her portrait and replied, "No, I don't think I can, unless you have the password?" After Hermione shook her head with a resigned no, the woman in the portrait sniffed, reclining back into her chair and smoothing her robes, "Well, I guess that's that, then."

Gathering her resolve, Hermione prepared herself mentally to force her way in. As much as she would regret damaging the portrait, the resident could flee to another frame, and any delay brought Hermione that much closer to crushing hopelessness. Hermione steeled her expression and said, "If that's the way it's going to be, I'll burn my way in. I can't let a memory stop me from helping my friends," and drew her wand.

Chuckling, the witch in the frame met Hermione's eyes and said, "You're not gryffindor enough to dare."

Hermione sighed, "Maybe you're right about that, a real Gryffindor would have stood up to Harry and not let things get this bad in the first place. But I can't give up now, more than anything, I have to try to help them." With that, she pointed her wand at the portrait and spoke the incantation, "Incendio."

As the center of the portrait began to blacken and crackle, pigment bubbling and warping the tableau around it, the passageway's guardian stood, receding from the flames in fear. As she gathered her things to bring to another frame and escape the flames, she hissed at Hermione, "Not only are you no Gryffindor, you're a villain besides," and slid out of the portrait as flames licked at her heels.

With a glassy look, Hermione centered herself. Truth be told, the words had cut her to the core. While every action she had made was in service to her friends, it was true that what she had just done was horrendous.

Unlike what Sirius Black had done to the Fat Lady in third year, fire damage like this to a portrait wasn't reparable. In her determination to get into McGonagall's office, she had destroyed the only refuge of an innocent portrait, now doomed to intrude upon others for the rest of her existence. Of all people, Hermione knew the value of solitude, of a place to call hers and hers alone. Hermione had often retreated to hidden alcoves in the library, or lost cloisters, hidden by the ivy that clung across so much of Hogwarts.

As the last fragments of canvas drifted down from the ruined frame to rest at her feet, Hermione stepped into the professor's office. Taking in her surroundings, Hermione noticed that the office was all a-clutter. She supposed it would be an effective way of keeping Umbridge's eyes off of things that Professor McGonagall would rather she not notice, without outright hiding them, but unfortunately Hermione was certain that Professor McGonagall's Timeturner would be one of the things hidden among the mess before her.

As she began digging through different boxes and drawers that littered the room, Hermione began to plan. She decided that her choice to follow Harry to the Ministry of Magic had been the right one, as letting him go on his own would have been even worse. That said, she wished she had thought of hitting him with an Incarcerous and trying to find someone who could have brought the situation under control.

Resigned, she started to lay out what she would do once she had found the Timeturner. Of course, she knew intellectually that anything she would do had already been done, but she felt compelled to do something, anything, rather than sit and live with the fact that Sirius was dead, Harry was beyond consolation, and that there was nothing she could do about either of these two things. And besides, she was well past the point of calling this whole thing off. That ship had sailed when she stole her next day's potion regiment along with several Pepper-Ups from the hospital wing in anticipation of avoiding any sort of medical care for the next six hours.

As the minutes stretched by and she found nothing, Hermione found herself giving in to despair, knowing that the longer it took for her to find the little device, the less time she had in the past to make a difference. Giving up in her search through the upteenth box, she sunk into a crouch and felt her eyes threaten tears.

Shaking her head, hair all askew, she whispered to herself, "You're a witch. Act like one and do something."

After a moment of thought, she smacked herself on the forehead and hastily pulled out her wand. A muttered "Accio" and suddenly a small case that she had been unable to open started rattling. Knowing that normal means wouldn't be enough she attempted an Alohamora charm to try and trick the box open. When that failed to work, and a cutting curse didn't even leave a scratch, she decided to try something more extreme. Working up her nerve, she jutted her wand at the box and said, "Bombarda," and watched it spring into the air, open but largely unharmed.

A second "Accio" and Hermione was stretching her arms as high as she could to get the chain over her massive head of hair. Holding the small sphere of spheres in her hands, Hermione once again focused on how important it was that she go back before the debacle at the Ministry and try to salvage something of this truly awful situation. Even if she couldn't do anything to change the events at the Ministry itself, perhaps she could do some good at the school, or warn other Order members, or do literally anything rather than lie in a hospital bed alone with her regrets.

These thoughts firmly in her mind, she set the Timeturner a-spinning, not bothering to count or measure, knowing she would need all six hours the device would grant.

As light began to enfold her, shaping golden arcs and making rents through the air in colours beyond description, Hermione realised the Timeturner was still spinning, hurling her backwards with a reckless abandon that was already clearly more than six hours removed from the present. Around her, through the envelope of blinding magic and streams of time, she could make out her surroundings changing over the course of days. A process that usually took a moment, perhaps two, dragged out into minutes and Hermione realised she was in uncharted territory.

While she could have taken the necklace off, or tried to interact with the field of magic weaving her through the loom of time, she had no desire to be an Eloise Mintumble. As the process continued unrelenting, Hermione compared her situation to that of the wayward Unspeakable. While everything she knew pointed towards Eloise actually inhabiting the past for a period of five days, Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if presented with this situation, that Eloise had actually done something to interfere with the magic. Along that same line of thought, Hermione pondered why this was happening to her. In the end, she concluded that while the box the Timeturner had been in was heavily charmed, that said nothing about the device itself. In her rush to use it, Hermione must have damaged it in some way.

After fifteen minutes of moving back in time, Hermione had determined that yes, the Timeturner was damaged, there was a visible crack in one of the internal spheres that must have affected her passage through time. Beyond that though, she could see Christmas decorations suddenly appear and realised that whenever she ended up, she would have a big problem on her hands one way or the other.

By the time an hour had passed, she had carefully sat down on the floor, rubbing her knees to re-establish circulation. Out of McGonagall's window, Hermione was able to see the preparations for the Third Task and began to panic. What had originally been an attempt to get six more hours to try and control the damage of the Ministry incident looked to have ballooned into something else entirely, something life changing. As Hermione began to hyperventilate, she recognized other symptoms of a panic attack and she decided to head it off before it got worse. Maybe when she woke up she would be whenever she was headed.

After taking one of the options she had stolen from the hospital wing Hermione carefully took her wand out of her sleeve. Pointing it at herself, she cast "Locomotor Mortis" in order to make sure she didn't accidentally interact with the protective magic that was conveying her through time, followed by a grimace and a grunted "Stupify."

When Hermione woke up, which was really more of a slap to the face awakening rather than the slow Sunday morning return to awareness typical of being stunned, it was to a face full of red beard. And peering over the top of that beard was a not-much-younger looking Dumbledore. For a man with so much color in his beard, he was remarkably wrinkly. Although his lips were lost deep within his drooping mustache, Hermione could tell he was smiling by the glimmer in his eyes and the proffered hand as she began to sit up.

Although lost in time, Hermione was relieved to see a familiar face, and happily exclaimed, "Professor, thank goodness! When are we?"

His invisible smile fading away into more blatant curiosity, Albus Dumbledore stroked his beard and leaned back into one of the two chairs he had conjured. From behind the red monstrosity, which red monstrosity, his beard or his robe, Hermione wasn't certain, Dumbledore drew out his pocketwatch. Following a quick glance, he looked back at Hermione and said, "Why my dear, it is fifth June, Nineteen Forty Three at," glancing down again, this time at a second set of hands, "half past three in the afternoon. What time were you expecting to arrive?"

Slowly, Hermione responded, "Well, not now at any rate." As she said this, she gestured at the Timeturner hanging from her neck and said, "and this infernal thing is likely to blame."

Cognizant of the dangers of interfering with the timeline, Hermione began to explain what she could. As she told Professor Dumbledore how desperate she was to do anything to help the boy who was her brother in everything but blood, and her determination to find a thimbleful of good in all the sorrow she had experienced, the suspicion in Dumbledore's eyes cleared away entirely, to be replaced by the twinkle that was so famous as to even be on his chocolate frog card. She rounded out her explanation with a statement explaining that she was a fifth year student, had just taken her OWLs and had no idea what to do now that she was stuck in this time.

Dumbledore rubbed his forehead, it was clear that what he was expecting out of his Saturday was anything but this. He exhaled and said, "while you will certainly not appreciate this, the timing of your arrival is rather fortuitous. This coming week is the review week for OWLs, so you will be able to take them again with the fifth years of this time. Because Grindelwald is still at large, there are an abundance of wizarding families we can use to craft you an identity and I believe I can convince the Headmaster to allow you to stay the summer. I daresay that that wound of yours will appreciate all the time you can give it in the hospital wing. I will take steps this evening to set things into motion to help you settle into this time period. For the meantime, I will have an elf provide you with accommodations in the castle."

Hermione watched him speak with growing shock, before replying, "Now hold on a minute, what do you mean make me an identity, settle into this time, take the bloody OWLs again. Did you skip over the part where we try to fix this and send me back to my own time?"

"Ah, young miss, I am sorry but I am certain that that will not be possible. The Unspeakables would not permit you to live should they know of your existence and without them there is no hope of accomplishing such a feat. As I said, by breakfast morning, I will have a new name and life for you to assume. Now, you are here in this time for what I think is a reason. It is clear that powerful magics were at work for you to come here. It is not every day that a witch manages to use a Timeturner to save her friends and travels what I suspect to be years, rather than hours. I understand you feel I am controlling your actions, but it clear that you are in no shape to be out of bed and this is really for the best. I think that given time you will see that magic brought you here for a purpose."

After a few more words, mostly over potential identities and sundries, Hermione found herself following the elf Ketty to an unused teacher's residence down the hall from the hospital wing. By the time she was there, she was ready to admit to herself that she may have been better off being less precipitous in her actions. Not only was she still injured, but now she was completely unable to help Harry and even worse, he was left all alone right after he lost Sirius. Because as good a friend as Ron was, he could hardly be considered emotionally mature.

Following a regiment of potions from a decidedly younger Madam Pomfrey and a certain amount of sympathy from her that Grindelwald had left Hermione all alone without a family which made Hermione feeling strange and uncomfortable, she was left in her room to her own devices.

Hermione couldn't help but be suspicious of how easily Professor Dumbledore had taken her appearance. While he had been rather strict with her, he actually was taking the situation with a great deal of aplomb. Apparently, her adamant refusal to provide any context except that the Timeturner had been her last hope to make a difference had been all that was necessary to lodge her firmly in this time's Albus Dumbledore's good side. A wry smile and a murmur about how she "was simply given the time she needed, rather than the time she wanted" as she left the room and that he often said love was the most powerful of all magics and that her circumstances were a fitting example of that hardly seemed justification enough, but she would take what she could get.

Perhaps cynically, Hermione found herself slightly at odds with this new professor, primarily because of his explanation regarding love when she was fifty years removed from said loved ones. All that aside, he had assured Hermione that he would acquire for her a suitable identity, as dead families were appearing out of the woodwork across the continent.

Along with her forthcoming identity, Professor Dumbledore's explanation that she would have to take her Ordinary Wizarding Levels for a second time left her feeling a mite put out. However, as frustrated at the prospect of that as she was, Hermione was also relieved that the professor was managing her appearance in this time as she knew she was in no state emotionally or physically to do the things that were needed. At this point, she simply planned to keep her head down and learn as much as she could in preparation of her past becoming the present, perhaps moving in the background would allow her to craft a hidden advantage for the Order and the Light once she was back among them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione finds herself discovering a whole new world a magic for the second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I didn't expect to be updating for a second time so soon, but I've found myself with a lot of downtime during work and was able to get another chapter further down the line onto paper as well as find time to do a bit of editing on this one. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Please don't be afraid to comment if you notice errors or inconsistencies. I did my best to proof the text, but I transcribed from paper to internet using my phone and some things could have easily slipped by. The line formatting looks weird, and I'll take care of that when I'm at a computer later.

The next day, Hermione came to awareness gradually. Still exhausted, the aching of her chest had roused her before she was truly ready to begin the day. As she reached over the the nightstand for her wand, taking care not to move her chest too much, she noticed that her clothes from the day before were gone and a bathrobe had been left in their place. The physical wound on her chest was largely healed, but the magic of the curse still lay within her and would only fade given time, according to what Madam Pomfrey had told her the day before. 

Having grasped her wand, Hermione cast a summoning charm on the potions that had been left for her. The package contained a broad assortment of nutritional, pain managing, and healing draughts that would help her recover quickly. 

Once she had taken her medicine, Hermione gingerly arose from the lush bed that had been provided for her. While it appeared that the robe that was left for her would be comfortable, she certainly wouldn't feel comfortable moving around the castle in it and she hoped that problem would be solved shortly. 

Picking up the robe, Hermione began to explore her new quarters. The night before, she had practically taken sleep standing up after the day's events had drawn to a close. During her exploration, Hermione found both an expansive closet, currently empty except for a gaudy set of robes that would have been more at home in the seventeenth centurz, and an en-suite bathroom, complete with an ornate dressing table and a mirror enchanted to comment on your appearance (apparently her hair needed a good wash), similar to the mirrors found in many traditional wizarding homes. 

With this discovery, Hermione set about drawing a bath. Only one she sat luxuriating in the near scalding water could Hermione begin to feel the tensions of the previous day begin to leave her body. While the problems in her old time were now far away, she had a whole new set to deal with here, and only the water distracted her enough to cease ruminating upon them. 

I

t was only once she began to hear movement in the other room that Hermione at last pulled herself from the water and slid on her new bathrobe.  Now armed with clothes, she exited the bathroom, where she was met by the elf from the day before, Ketty, who was preparing to put away a selection of robes into the closet.

"Good morning young miss! I haves for you some robes.  Is you feeling better yet?" Ketty asked upon seeing Hermione enter the room, as she continued to fold various articles of clothing, followed by placing them into the closet with a snap of her fingers.

Hermione started, while not exactly exposed, she had not anticipated anyone seeing here while only wearing her bathrobe. 

Picking out one of the robes she had been gifted, Hermione replied, "I certainly feel better, but I have a way to go before I am fully recovered."  As she walked back to the bathroom to dress, Hermione asked the elf, "Will I be seeing Professor Dumbledore today?  Or am I to spend the entire day abed?  If I am to be left alone, could you perhaps get me some books to occupy my time?  The professor told me he was going to prepare a list of titles for me."

From the other side of the door, Hermione could hear Ketty say, "Mister Professor Sir is being busy until after breakfast.  When you is done eating, he is coming."  With that, the elf disappeared, and a platter of fruit and breakfast meats appeared in her stead.

Once dressed, Hermione came out to sit down at her table, placed in a nook of the room that faced a large window.  Out of it, she could see the edge of the Forbidden Forest, partially obscured by a puff of smoke that appeared to be coming from the Groundskeeper's hut, just out of sight.

As she began to eat, Hermione found that she was quite hungry, having had an expansive day the day before.  She proceeded to quickly devour the food laid before her, while making sure to maintain some semblance of propriety - while she was alone, that didn't excuse poor manners.

A short while later, only long enough for Hermione to familiarize herself with her new clothes, which except for a single exception conformed to British standards of the time, Dumbledore arrived.

Hearing a knock at the door, Hermione let the professor in.  As he sat down at one of the chairs in her nook, he asked if she would like tea, before summoning an elf and requesting a pot.

After they were both sipping contentedly at their cups, Dumbledore initiated conversation, "So, Hermione, how are you settling into your new rooms here?  I hope everything is to your satisfaction."

Hermione sat her cup down and looked closely at the man before answering, "I have found everything to my liking, if a bit lacking in entertainment."

"I am sure that is a problem I can solve for you!  In fact, I think I can do so right now  Before I begin, you did say yesterday that you could speak German, correct?" asked Dumbledore, clearly pleased with her prior response.

A bit quizically, Hermione answered, "Yes, my mother grew up in the country, and taught me to speak it as a child.  What does that have to do with entertainment though?"

With a grin, Dumbledore explained, "I have found a witch to be your new mother.  She lived in Bremen in the Magical Hanse until she died in childbirth some years ago."  Dumbledore sighed before reaching for his cup again, "I knew her in part because of her role in the Hanseatic government, where she was involved in managing their magical education system.  Because you can speak German, we can use her to craft an identity for you in this time."

With wide eyes, Hermione let her curiosity loose, "The Hanse?  But I thought the Hanseatic League fell apart hundreds of years ago.  And she will be my mother, but what of my father?  Is he still alive?  And I clearly know nothing of German magical culture!"  Catching her breath, Hermione looked expectantly at the deputy headmaster.  She was quite concerned, it seemed that if this was the course she was going to take she had a lot of learning to do.

"Well," Dumbledore replied, "Your new father was a muggle, who died recently of tuberculosis.  Because he was a muggle, he had no interaction with the magical community save your mother, so there won't be anyone to disprove your story.  The Hanse is of course long gone in the muggle world, but in the Magical world, much of Europe has maintained boundary lines similar to those of times long past." At this Dumbledore made a tired facial expression, it seemed he took a dim view of European politics,  "This is in part because there was never a German unification in our world - Prussia remains today a great power on the continent, and is Grindelwald's stronghold in the world."  

At the mention of Grindelwald especially, Granger could see Dumbledore's cheerful disposition seem to waver, "Today, what you call Germany is comprised of die Magische Hanse, Prussia, and Roman Italy.  The Hanse controls all of the German coast, Schleswig, and a good portion of Scania and various enclaves in Norway and Poland.  Prussia, on the other hand, maintains borders similar to those muggle Prussia had following the treaty in 1815.  Roman Italy is exactly what it sounds like, a unified Holy Roman Empire and Italy, ruled out of Rome by wizards who would like to rebirth the Roman Empire of yore.  I will have Ketty proved you with a selection of both general history and geographic texts as well as some Hanseatic books that discuss their culture and society.  This way you will be able to become accustomed to their culture as well as pick up a handful of German charms to strengthen your story."

Shellshocked by the deluge of information as she was, Hermione hardly noticed as Professor Dumbledore stood up, only to say, "Oh yes, I have received word from Headmaster Dippett that you will be permitted to attend Hogwarts beginning next year.  I am not surprised, but it was not something within my power to do unilaterally."

Hermione looked up only to see Dumbledore about to step out of the door, and quickly asked, "Wait sir ,is there anything else about my backstory and new parents I should know?"

He glanced back at her for a moment, before finally saying, "I will leave that up to you, as I expect it will be easier for you to remember all of this information if at least some of it is a product of your own imagination," and left.

Hermione's day at that point was turned on its head.  While her actual personal circumstances seemed to fit what she expected, beyond actually taking a Hanseatic identity, the information about the state of Europe was entirely new.  In the future, Hogwarts provided little information about the history of the Magical world, focusing mostly on Goblin wars and various British dark wizards.  While she had attempted to supplement that knowledge with books from the library, even those focused almost exclusively on Grindelwald's War, which overwhelmingly were fixated on the duel between him and Dumbledore, rather than any political motivations beyond the elimination of muggles.

\------

After the meeting with Dumbledore, Hermione found her week turn into a massive study session.  Not that she  _had_  to work as hard as she did, but the vast amount of information suddenly available to her was a siren call much too powerful for someone like her to resist.  As she worked her way through the veritable library Professor Dumbledore had provided for her, she learned many things about the land she was supposed to be from.  First among these was that her name was to be Hermione Ingrid Meier, born 27. February to Annette Heidschötter and Johannes Meier, in Bremen, die Magische Hanse.

As she began to develop the story she would tell after learning about the locations she was supposedly from, she decided that she had been a student at the Hanseschule Bremen, a branch of the Hanse magical school system that had been conveniently destroyed by the Allied forces the year prior during a bombing campaign. 

After its destruction, she was to have gone to the defacto capital and largest magical city in the Hanse, Lübeck, before using correspondence she had found between her mother and Dumbledore to create an opportunity to escape to Britain.  During this week, Hermione also discovered that most magic in both the Hanse and Magical Prussia was performed in an ancient form of German, rather than Latin or Greek, and began learning an assortment of basic charms in order to reinforce her story. 

Apparently, this use of German to perform magic was one of the main reasons for a lack of intervention by other European countries in Grindelwald's war.  The split between classical Latin incantations and proto-German ones was a source of great tension, and many other countries were content to let the Hanse and Prussia simply wipe each other out, until recently, when the Hanse began to lose ground and became clear Grindelwald had no intention of stopping there.

Hermione's astonishment upon learning these facts drove her even further into her studies, and found her German, sadly little used since beginning Hogwarts and spending less time with her mother, who was German born, suddenly bloom.  Almost every night of this week Hermione could be found reading, making notes, pacing her small room, and generally trying to pull her hair out due to the overwhelming deluge of information before her.  

All this to day, when she woke up the following Monday only to be reminded that it was the first day of OWLs, Hermione was more than a little angry with Professor Dumbledore.  Instead of placing her with a convenient English family, perhaps from a made up or extinct branch of a pureblood family in order to secure her acceptance within society, he had left her to try and tread water in a new culture, and then had the gall to distract her from reviewing for her exams by giving her so many interesting and new books.

Regardless, it was time for her to take the tests.  Following the directions given to her by note via Ketty, Hermione found herself in the same testing rooms she had been in only a short time earlier.  It seemed that wizarding traditions extended even to where they held exams in Hogwarts.

Presented with the familiar face of Griselda Marchbanks, Hermione was able to find her center and present herself for the theoretical written portions of the first exams she was to take.  After she was introduced, stumbling over her new last name, she began the tests.  For both the charms and history exams she was taking that day, she did her best to include references to her apparent heritage, without intentionally sandbagging her scores to seem that she didn't have a solid grasp of Latin based magic, which would have been proved clearly false during the Practical.

After she had completed the written portions of the two exams, they had a break for lunch, at which point Hermione began to relax.  Perhaps her anger with Dumbledore was unfounded, as it seemed not only was the room the same, but so were the tests.  Her preparations in her old time had more than prepared her for what lay before her.

Following the group luncheon, Hermione returned to the testing area to begin waiting for her name to be called.  Fortunately, Heidschötter was not that much later than Granger, and she was not forced to wait for too long before it was her turn.

When she began the practical portion of the charms exam, she was pleased to find that it was also no different from the future version.  When told to have her egg do cartwheels, she did so with a flourish of her wand and a loud "Nemgasti", and was pleased to see that the German version of Wingardium Leviosa was just as easy to use as the spell she was familiar with.

Unfortunately, the second criterion of the exam, to demonstrate the hover charm, meant specifically Wingardium Leviosa, and so she found herself making the egg do tricks twice.  To round out the test, she performed the standard anti-hiccup charm, which she most certainly had not learned in German, having focused exclusively on more useful spells.

As she completed her final spell, one of the examiners beckoned her over.  A studious looking man, she imagined that he had been dragged from hs books to proctor by force.  When she had approached him, he told her, "While your performance of your first spell was entirely adequate, we are not testing you in German magic.  I recommend you avoid using it again during your coming exams, some judges may have difficulties being impartial if you do not."  He dismissed her with a curt nod and a wave of his hand and a rather unsettled Hermione left the room.

The rest of her exams seemed to hurry by, and she found that the disposition of the judges was in fact much improved when she restrained herself to only Latin magic.  Hermione felt she had done well on all of her exams, but was especially pleased with her performance in Astronomy and Defense.  Astronomy because between the present time and the nineties, even wizards had experienced several developments in the science and she had a depth of experience that was atypical for most students her age, and Defense against the Dark Arts just felt easier.  All of her spells just seemed to come more naturally, and she suspected it was because having been in combat at the Ministry, performing the same spells in a relaxed situation was simply easier than it had been the first time around.

Her various exams completed, Hermione found herself with nothing to do except re-immerse herself in her new books.  As time passed and the castle proceeded to empty itself of students, she found herself meeting with the Headmaster, who offered her the opportunity to stay the summer at the castle, as a student had found the culprit behind a series of attacks that had threatened the closure of the school. Due to Professor Dumbledore's support of her petition, provided she help different professors prepare for the next school year, be that through preparing various potions ingredients, working in the greenhouses, or simply transfiguring various half needle-half match hybrids and other disasters that were products of the classroom and bored children, her residence for the summer was a sure thing.

Beyond these tasks though, her time was her own, and she found herself knocking regularly on Professor Dumbledore's door to ask for new books, and even if their relationship remained largely formal, she found that her position in his good graces seemed to solidify even further throughout their discussions, as long as she avoided talking about Grindelwald and Prussia.  Soon though, she found the new school year approaching, and readied herself to enter a new world full of strange people and new faces.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't care about the spell I made up you don't need to read this. 
> 
> Nemgasti - take flight. 
> 
> The spell presented in the chapter draws its meaning from the proto-Germanic nem, the imperative form of to take, which is nehm in today's words, and gasti, the accusative form for proto-Germanic 'flight', which is very different from today's Fluch. I am no linguist, so the construction of the spell is based mostly on my knowledge of both German and English and references from what we know of proto-Germanic.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for the wait before this update! When I originally posted this it was mostly to get critique before I started putting more time into this project. Over the last few weeks I've only had a bit of time to write, but I do have the next few chapters prepared. I think there will probably be a pretty big gap before the next chapter as well because I'm currently building a buffer so that later on I can post chapters on a schedule and you guys won't be left hanging like this! All that said, I hope all of you like this one. :)

It was only the first day after the other students had left that Hermione was finally permitted to leave her rooms. While she had not yet received a clean bill of health from Madam Pomfrey, she was on her way towards making a complete recovery, with only a thin scar bisecting her chest to show she had ever been injured at all.

Shortly after rising, Hermione was given a note by Kitty, written in Dumbledore's thin hand. Reading it, she learned that he requested a meeting with her later in the day. Following a breakfast of fruit and porridge and a dressing-down by Ketty for allowing her room to devolve to the state it had in her frenzy of reading, Hermione left for her meeting.

As she walked the familiar halls towards the transfiguration professor's office, Hermione became aware of how unchanged the castle appeared. It was as if the massive structure was trapped in time, unchanging. That the monolith surrounding her aged at all was only evident in the ivy and moss slowly crawling towards the sun on the windows and outer exterior.

Retracing familiar steps on the way to Professor Dumbledore's office, Hermione felt her memories of her previous time in Hogwarts rise up within her, putting pressure on the fragile peace of mind she had been able to find since appearing in this time. Flashes of the faces of her friends, Harry, Ron, Professor Lupin, and of course of her parents, invaded her thoughts. The paths her and the rest of her trio had tread through the same castle only weeks before were now consigned only to memory. The weight that knowledge, that she would never again share that camaraderie with them was so disheartening that she found herself unintentionally slowing down, finally noticing only once she had come to a complete stop.

As tears tracked down her face and her shoulders shuddered, Hermione felt the courage that had pushed her into this course of action begin to fail her. Once it had left her, all she found herself with was the love she had for people she knew she would likely never see again and felt her sorrow and regrets swallow her up. She knew that either time was static and all the tragedy in the world would remain unchanged, or that it would be fickle enough that perhaps none of them would even be born. But even the boundless love for those in her memories could find itself stymied in the face of enough adversity. While it drove her as much as ever, her dogged single-mindedness that had been fueled by her Gryffindor courage was being forced to find new wells of strength to draw from.

It was here, in an open courtyard, gabled with greenery and must, legs pulled to her chest, red cheeks blotchy and wet, that Professor Dumbledore found her. Once fifteen minutes had passed beyond their planned meeting time, he had set out in search of her, concluding that she had become lost either in thought or fact. It was clear from the sympathetic expression he was wearing that the man knew with what Hermione was struggling and did not hold the missed meeting against her.

Leaning over her with a small smile and open hands, Professor Dumbledore beckoned Hermione up, offering compassion and a shoulder to lean on. As she pushed herself to her feet, Hermione desperately hoped that her professor would pull her into a hug, whisper to her that all would b eset aright and proceed to take the burden of the past off of her shoulders once and for all.

While not uncaring, what he did instead not quite meet her heartfelt wishes. Taking one of Hermione's hands between his own and patting it, he said "I am not surprised you feel you have reached the limits of your strength, but I see in you bountiful love, the love that brought you here. While you may be alone in body, you will never be in spirit. I trust you will have the strength to do whatever time brought you here to accomplish."

With a whirl of his robes, Dumbledore pulled Hermione alongside him only to let go of her and begin to walk. As he strode forward, crimson robes billowing, he glanced at her and said, "In truth, your meeting today is more with the headmaster than it is with me. As you know, he has accepted my petition that you be allowed to reside here this summer, but with certain stipulations attached."

By the time Dumbledore had finished explaining, they were already at the landing below the Headmaster's office. How they had come so far so quickly, Hermione wasn't sure, but the professor glanced at her not unkindly before speaking the password to the ever-present gargoyle and pushed Hermione forward with a nudge of his arm, giving her a quick reassurance, "The headmaster is a kind man, merely show him respect and I expect that most of your time this summer will be your own," before leaving her next to the stairs with a lump in her throat and butterflies in her stomach.

With no small amount of trepidation, Hermione began to ascend the staircase. While no different in the future, she found the whole process a great deal more intimidating than when it was Professor Dumbledore who was waiting at the top.

As the moving stairs conveyed her to the top, Hermione tried to collect herself, despite her emotional state, she wanted desperately to make a good impression with Headmaster Dippet. While Dumbledore had crafted for her an identity that with some work should be relatively solid, her current position as a resident of Hogwarts had been until this point extended only as a gesture of goodwill. If she wanted to stay the summer though, and not end up in some squalid group home, Hermione knew that she had to win the Headmaster's good favour.

Entering the office, which was noticeably more office-like and less whimsical in appearance under its current resident, Hermione had yet to make up her mind on how she would try and appeal to the Headmaster. Faced with a wizened old man who appeared rather more shrewd than the stories and histories she had read had implied, Hermione found herself glad that she had not developed a strategy for dealing with him, as it was abundantly clear that the state of his senility had been greatly exaggerated.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself mentally, Hermione introduced herself. "Good morning Headmaster, I am Hermione Meier, I was brought here by Professor Dumbledore to speak with you?"

The headmaster, a thin man, all bones and droopy eyebrows, looked up from the document he was inspecting and set it aside before standing up. In contrast to Professor Dumbledore's vibrant robes, he was wearing refined dress robes coloured a subdued blue. While he looked as if he had had a foot in the grave for a decade at least, it was clear his wit was not so decayed as his physical form.

Pushing his hair back with a palm, the headmaster welcomed Hermione in, "please, feel welcome, take a seat and let us discuss your situation."

Hermione stepped forward and took a seat in a decidedly traditional looking chair facing his desk, it was much less comfortable than the more familiar and stuffed chairs that would inhabit the room in the future. As she was smoothing out her robes, the Headmaster resumed sitting as well, and continued, "From what Albus has told me, you're something of a refugee. I know he was familiar with your mother, and I myself have shared some small business related correspondences with her in the past. As I hear it, you grew up with your father in muggle Germany?" At her timid nod, Dippet kept going, "While this story of tutors and self instruction while living with your father may fool most, I am not so naive. I received word of your OWL results, which were quite satisfactory, and it is clear you have a strong background in latin magic. You are not so poor a dissembler, the testers were all thoroughly convinced by the character you are presenting, but I can see the light shining through the cracks in your facade."

Hermione was stricken. After all the work Professor Dumbledore had done to help her, even if he did so only because he was convinced it was fate and not out of a sense of compassion, she was devastated to have blown her cover so early, and with someone so important. Hesitantly, Hermione raised her head and looked Headmaster Dippet in the eye, but rather than the anger or condemnation she expected, the only emotion she saw on his face was amusement.

With a wry grin, Dippet reassured her, "Yes, I know you are not being completely honest, but I am able to recognize the direness of your circumstances none-the-less. Albus is a good man and I will trust his judgement in the matter, as I often do. Rest assured, as far as anyone will hear from me, you are unequivocally the daughter of Madam Meier, all you must do is continue to play the part. To that end, I'm sure that the good professor has given you plenty of information to learn, and contrary to what he may have lead you to expect, your summer will be your own, at least for the most part. I want you to spend your time solidifying your story and learning enough that you can fit into Hogwarts so that none might suspect you are not what you seem." With a glint in his eye, Dippet looked closely at her and said, "And part of making sure no one suspects anything out of the ordinary is to be ordinary. I don't know how or why you arrived here, but I expect you to conform to how things work here, and avoid stirring up trouble, regardless of whatever agenda you think you have. This is my school, and I'll not have you take my hospitality and use it to any ends beyond an education and a safe haven."

Shifting quickly in tone from utter seriousness to general amiability, the Headmaster smiled as he stood and directed Hermione to the same. As he walked with her to the door, Dippet tapped his chin. "I belive there is one more thing you should know. One other student will be joining you over the summer. I had originally rejected his request at he bidding of Professor Dumbledore, but it is clear that whatever concerns he might have had are resolved now. And naturally I must not play favorites, so I will be offering the young Tom Riddle the same chance you have, to return and stay at Hogwarts for the summer."

And with a quick step forward and a closing door at her back, Hermione knew that she had just landed in a great heap of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that Canon and Fanon both represent Dippet as something of an idiot and generally as following Dumbledore's lead. I think that's pretty unrealistic, in order to get as far as he did in life, he had to at least have a modicum of intelligence, and if he wasn't a magical prodigy the was Dumbledore was, he was likely canny in some other way. I see him more as presenting himself as the friendly old man, mostly apolitical, but moving behind the scenes towards his own ends, and quite a bit more intelligent than the perception he gives off to those around him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom comes to Hogwarts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends, this one introduces Tom and sets the stage for his and Hermione's first meeting. I'm going to try one chapter every week or so moving forward, at least until the end of summer and I start back at university, at which point it may slow down a bit.

The orphanage was horrid, of course. The children were loathsome, the food miserable, the caretakers petty, and the locale in shambles. The same as every summer, really. As had become his habit, Tom had taken to spending his time wandering the streets of London. After all, better surrounded by rats than the gutter rats that passed for orphans who lived at Wool’s. While the city was still standing, for the most part, the war was evident in all things. Indigents and other less fortunate types crowded the streets, and every day the prices in shop windows crept higher. Whenever a crash sounded in the streets, those around him cringed, and despite the self loathing it caused, Tom could not help but feel that same urge. Bombs muggles out of all men. 

Every year when he returned and found the conditions worse, Tom's hatred grew. Hatred for the muggles for how easily controlled by ideologues they were, for he found the fawning over Churchill to be just as pathetic as the mindless fear of Hitler, and his hatred for wizards, who in their elitism had become so far removed from mankind as to send their hopes for the future into areas of terrible danger. He was naturally the best hope, but other muggleborn students did occasionally have potential as well. What caused his ire the most was that this was done simply out of ignorance. The last battles with muggles had been fought before the advent of rifling, and while muskets posed a danger, their accuracy or lack thereof had led his fellow wizards to see muggles as a nuisance rather than as rivals. 

And that's what muggles were. The advance of science and technology pressed ever onward, and while a single muggle, or even a dozen if unarmed, posed no threat to even the sorriest wizard, all it would take was a single bomb misplaced to wipe out Diagon Alley and sow salt to British Wizarding economy. 

So yes, Tom was angry. And like any angry Slytherin, he spent his time plotting. Wandering the streets and plotting. With every block, his goals grew and plans became more grand, but with every night when he passed the gendarmarie on the way home and was reminded that if a bomb might fall he would have hardly enough time to recognize the sound, let alone attempt a protego, his thoughts fell back to earth. 

Tom had been back at the orphanage for only a week, and yet the high left over from his year at Hogwarts was already a distant memory. All that was left over was frustration with Dippet for following Dumbledore|s lead and a festering rage in his gut. His inability to charm Dumbledore hindered him at every turn. From the day he had been approached at the orphanage, Tom had been under the haze of the transfiguration professor's disapproval. This was not unusual to Tom, disapproval was hardly something he was unfamiliar with. He had gotten it from Wool's, from the Deacon who had exorcised him, from his instructors in muggle school, and every authority figure in between. However, before, he had never cared, for they had never had anything Tom wanted. Dumbledore was different, for even though Tom did not believe Dumbledore would give up his secrets regardless of his opinion of Tom, the influence he brought to bear within Hogwarts was significant, and to have it in his corner, rather than being set against him, was something Tom would sacrifice much for.

It was with that thought in mind, as he was walking through a park that had clearly not seen a gardener since winter, that Tom noticed an owl peering at him from under a tree. Immediately recognizing it for what it was, Tom was a bit taken aback. H e had only a handful of colleagues that might feel comfortable owling him during the summer, and all of them had received strict instructions to the contrary. Reaching an arm out, the owl landed on Tom's ragged sleeve, leaving punctures in the cloth. Clothes were hard to come by as an orphan and his thin shirt was no protection at all against the bird's talons.

The owl stuck out one clawed foot, tearing another set of lines into his shirt, and Tom took the presented letter. Shaking itself all over, the owl hopped from Tom's arm and took off back to the skies. Using both hands to unseal the parchment, Tom began to read.

"Dear Tom,

I am happy to inform you that due to the resolution of the monster preying on students, the decision to deny your request to stay at Hogwarts over the summer has been re-evaluated. If you still wish to do so, I have enchanted this letter to act as a portkey when the holder says the word "studious", and it will convey you to the gates of Hogwarts.

Should you come back for the summer, you will find company with a new student, fresh from the continent.

Headmaster of Hogwarts  
Charms and Runes Master  
Armando Dippet"

 

While Tom's composure upon reading the letter was unchanged, internally he was doing cartwheels. Whatever had changed to move Dumbledore's sorry rear into reversing his opinion surely had nothing to do with him, but whatever it was had done him a great favor. Guaranteed safety, a full three meals, and access to the library were all reason enough individually to get him to leave Wool's, but all together they presented an option so appealing he was glad he had taken to always carrying his wand and purse. With nothing else of value within his possessions, Tom took out his wand and intoned, "studious".

A flash of stars on black and a semblance of falling lasted less than a moment and Tom found himself crouched before the path leading up to the castle.

Having never experienced teleportation in such a manner, Tom found it simultaneously impressive and irritating. Certainly someone could develop a method that would maintain balance. The arithmantic functions for Wingardium Leviosa were not exactly complex, and as complex as the idea of a portkey was, adding those components surely could not be that great an increase in variability. Tom was consistently astounded by the things wizards just chose to live with when they had the power to reshape reality.

Putting the persistently recurring thought aside, Tom began to make his was towards the castle. Walking across the lawn, he saw that some construction had begun on a structure overlooking the Forbidden Forest, although if he was being honest with himself, he could hardly call it construction, it looked more like a beaver dam or an overturned bird's nest had had dozens of wizards casting the enlargement charm on it in concert. Next to the structure was a lean-to that looked as if it could hold a score of men, but appeared to be unoccupied for the moment.

Cresting the hill he was on, Tom was presented with the castle. Ever the same, it stood imposing, shadows drawn behind it that fed into the foothills of the surrounding mountains, a medley of dark and lavender stretching forever. Although the school was empty except for the staff and a single other student, lights burned in many windows, Hogwarts' own magic declaring independence from its residents.

Quick strides brought him to the great doors guarding the entrance. Bound in iron and ensorcelled against attack, the ease with which they opened was only a minor magic compared to the rest of the castle, and yet one of the most subtly impressive.

The hall within was empty of people, for even the portraits had congregated with one another in other areas to visit for the evening, leaving his arrival unannounced. Rather than being disappointed by this, Tom was relieved. He would rather not explain the complete lack of belongings that accompanied him.

Due to the time, late evening, Tom wondered whether supper was still being held within the Great Hall, for if so, he would get at least one solid meal that day. The porridge at Wool's could hardly be dignified as being called food, and lunch was usually left up to the children to find on their own.

Making his way over to the vestibule, Tom ducked his head into the hall to see who it contained. Hardly dignified, but then, sometimes behaving in an undignified manner was useful in maintaining pride. Finding it empty except for one girl that looked about his age, presumably the "company" mentioned in the Headmaster's letter, he stepped through the doors.

Relieved that Dumbledore was not present, for Tom did not think he could politely bear the faux-fond look he would receive if the professor were in residence, Tom walked through the hall towards the girl. She was engrossed in one of several books surrounding her plates, and it wasn't until he sat directly in front of her that Tom caught her attention. The shock in her eyes upon making eye contact he expected, the quiet fear, soon hidden, he did not.


End file.
